Good morning my beloved.
I felt you in my dreams.
My thoughts raced to you upon awakening.
I begin another day.
I take another step down this twisted path in search of You.
I finally have a clear image of the ultimate destination but how, when, and where are beyond my comprehension.
The ancient books say go, move, seek, and the desire will finally find its resting place.
And here I am, at this place where I can neither move forward or return from whence I came.
Yet my impossible task is to seek You still.
I am wretched and weak and at times filled with fear and horrible grief.
I miss You terribly!
I yearn to touch you, to breathe your air and somehow now, in this barren place,
I must exist without Your sustenance.
I must attempt to draw breath here in the vacuüm of space that now lies between Us.
Are You lost like I am?
Are You plagued with doubt and riddled with fear that even this is another cruel joke?
Come to me if You can.
I am utterly alone without You.
I lost You somewhere along the way.
I can not mark the time or the place or the circumstance where one became two.
In my folly I mistook Ego for my Soul and Cleverness for Depth.
But here and now in this empty place Solitude is my instruction and my guide.
I am laid bare, exposed in my nakedness, and You gave me death that I might live.
Blind eyes now opening, ears straining to hear, wayward footsteps seeking the Way
For You call to me from beyond the horizon and whisper my name on the wind.
Yours is the fragrance of beauty, Your kisses the taste of truth.
You have stirred, warmed, and awakened my slumbering senses.
The un-thought known germinates and pushes toward the sky.
I have found that I am lost and in the dying I begin to live.
So I come to You now, and go out not knowing the way.
You are my Beloved, and my true habitation.
“Solitude is home”, where we find peace within ourselves to be ourselves to feel all that we want to, others do not matter
I wonder that when we feel lost, it is because we have closed down. Is it not a matter of waking up? Is it not a matter of realizing that what is sought is already there, has always been there, is there still? Let the dream become the reality. The solitude is the place where the seed is sown again, and begins to grow; where we can release the clothing of camouflage which separates that which all are seeking.
The banquet was well served.
I am noticing that the progress or change happens without too much effort on my part. I work and think and emote trying this direction or that and down the road a while I take stock and find I am somewhere or something I had not intended. Strangley familiar homecoming to a place I have never been but have always known. Much love friend.
“The moment you start watching the thinker, a higher level of consciousness becomes activated. You then begin to realize that there is a vast realm of intelligence beyond thought, that thought is only a tiny aspect of that intelligence. You also realize that all the things that truly matter – beauty, love, creativity, joy, inner peace – arise from beyond the mind. You begin to awaken.” Eckhart Tolle Kind of like this?
Yes and kinda outside of my cknscious control
This is so beautiful, Plato. “But here and now in this empty place Solitude is my instruction and my guide.”
So nice.
Peace
Mary
You understand then. 🙂 it is so sweet to meet one who does. Be blessed this cold night
Very nice and well done. I have added you to a list of versatile blogger nominations. A small thanks for the likes over the past year.
Good morning and thank you Sir. I enjoy your work.
I appreciate that very much. Thank you.
I always enjoy dropping in over here. Most of the time I forget to leave a note (slightly scatterbrained these days) but this one is too fabulous not to say WOW. You made me stop in my tracks–and stopping, for me, is very difficult–and take a few minutes to take that all in. Really great.
Thank you for stopping by here and for yiur gracious comments.
Wonderful.
Thank you for being here.
The pleasure is mine.
I hope ya’ll are staying warm.
No problem for me. I’m in Melbourne in the middle of an Australian summer.
How beautiful is this … deeply moving<3 Love, Isabella
“if I go on and prepare for you a place, again do I come, and will receive you unto myself, that where I am ye also may be;” (John 14:3)
Yes. His ministry was begun in solitude
I’m sitting here, crying…
{{{Zareen}}}
because I’m so moved
Once a friend said to me, a poem is nothing to understand with your thoughts, but just to feel… I really could fee this. Thank you.
Hey sweet friend
Hey my friend, I reposted, I hope that was okay.
Well yes. You never have to ask. It is an honor.
I think this is the most honest and clear thing you’ve written since The Offering. It makes me still inside as I contemplate my own journey in light of what you’ve shared. It makes me feel I am not on a path previously untrodden, that just like the desert mothers who have gone through the wilderness before me, you are there somewhere finding your way. I am curious what you mean by a clear image of the ultimate destination… This is so beautiful and deep, O Bard…
I guess the clear image is not in from or place but substance. That it is. That its not wishful but actual.
Which is why when I comment about “how can you go and move after making all these great changes at the house” you are not attached to the house at all?
Its kinda like writing a poem. I enjoy the process and there is pride in having created something good. The projects started as an idea. I looked at the space and saw something missing. Completing them fills the space with what I saw. It feels true and finished. If I do write something well its because there seemed to be a void that needed to be filled. If I do it well enough there is a sense of truth and beauty about it. Then its done. But having created something does not bring a sense of final completion. Its nice but there are alway more poems to write and decks to . Its all kinda the same to me. Even the therapy I do with folks has the same creative impulse (when its good). 🙂
That makes perfect sense. I guess I get too emotionally attached to people, things, even places (like the retreat house). I’m not holding these things with open hands I guess you could say. Probably something I need to work on…
You work too much baby :). It may be that I am warped and don’t attach enough.:) I like that about you. Defunately don’t need a world full of mes. Without good folks like you whose care is tenacious the world would fall apart.
Well see! (As you so often say. 😀 ) I HAVE to keep working hard then. Can’t have the world falling apart now, can we? What we NEED is more folks like you who know how to say what we feel so we can finally understand. 🙂
We all need you to be you. That would be perfect.
Well right now “me” has to go invent something to eat. Scary thought! 😉
I need to edit. 🙂
No! Oh hell no!
Spelling:) I think I fixed it
You scared me there for a minute, goofus!
🙂 it could be improved but if the ideas are clear enough that’s all that matters. Trying to make something perfect can kill it some times.
You know, my creative writing teacher told me that same thing once. She said you could polish something till you’d worn away your original intent and it doesn’t even mean what you said any more. Ah hem… I thought you were late for work!!! 😀
If these words of your don’t raise questions for the readers, then you’re not doing your job. Why on earth would you edit it? It’s perfect.
Yepp: Perfect. Keep on dreamin’ !
«The happiness consists in realizing that it is all a great strange dream.» (Jack Kerouac, «Lonesome Traveler»)
Oh! So that’s where that stuff you posted on Promptlings came from?
Good morning brother.